


Is You Is Or Is You Ain't

by forthegreatergood



Series: My Best Girl [4]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Getting Together, Pining, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthegreatergood/pseuds/forthegreatergood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie's getting nowhere with Peggy until suddenly she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is You Is Or Is You Ain't

**Author's Note:**

> All characters property of Marvel.
> 
> Not beta-read. Please post any noticed errors in the comments, and they'll get fixed.

Angie sat down at the table and looked around for Helen. It wasn’t like her to miss breakfast, even if it was the usual Griffith fare.

“Powdered eggs again. What am I paying for?” Carol grumbled, frowning at her plate.

“Still, better than the Blitz, right, English?” Angie asked brightly. She was sitting right across from Peggy over breakfast, and wasn’t that something? If she knew where things stood, she could brush Peggy’s foot with hers under the table with absolutely no one else the wiser.

“Just barely,” Peggy said wryly. She’d tucked in well enough, but Angie had spent long enough by now watching her eat real food to know it was mostly appetite and not enjoyment. It wasn’t like the cooks went out of their way or anything, but Miriam insisted on breakfast bright and early, and well. She’d known enough cooks in her life to know that nobody liked dragging themselves out of bed before the birds were even singing just to get someone else an uninspired breakfast. Angie could practically taste their professional disappointment.

“Morning, girls,” Molly chirped. She looked like the cat that got the canary as she sashayed in, and Angie couldn’t imagine what had put a spring like that in her step.

“Someone had a late night,” Peggy smirked. 

Molly grinned at them, bold as brass, and Angie felt a flash of jealousy. She hated being left out of things. Nothing drove her up a wall faster than feeling like everybody but her got the joke. It was pretty clear that Peggy knew exactly what Molly’d been up to, but Carol came to her rescue with a quick, befuddled glance up from her eggs.

“What time did the cat drag you in?” Carol asked, prodding her breakfast. She gave up looking for signs of life and started eating after a few more seconds.

“I didn’t exactly get dragged out,” Molly chuckled, smiling.

“Molly, you didn’t!” Angie gasped. That certainly explained it, then. Molly’d been mooning around like a love-sick dope for a couple weeks now, ever since her man had started picking up doubles to try and sock some cash away. Molly thought he was going to propose soon, but he didn’t get off until after curfew now, and she missed stepping out with him.

“What can I say? Jimmy is very persuasive.” Molly’s eyebrows quirked up suggestively, and Angie shook her head. Jimmy also hadn’t seemed very bright the few times she’d met him, and Miriam was a light sleeper.

“And nimble,” Peggy added. Angie’s brows furrowed, and everything clicked together. Molly lived right next door to Peggy. If Jimmy hadn’t done such a great job with the sneaking when he’d snuck in, Peggy’d probably heard him from a mile away. No wonder she’d been first with the news.

“You got a guy, Peggy?” Carol asked. 

Angie tensed. She had a pretty good idea Carol was asking for her benefit. Carol had gotten her start in nursing during the war, and while she definitely seemed to prefer guys herself, she had a sharp eye for picking out girls who didn’t. Angie figured she might be getting about as tired of Angie’s moping as Lorraine and Angie had been getting of Molly’s.

“I’m afraid I’m married to my work at the moment,” Peggy said quickly. 

It had the sound of a line she was parroting, like she was getting kind of sick of fending off the question. Angie pushed her eggs around her plate and thought fast. Maybe not having a guy around was a long-term thing, then. Angie had her own go-to explanation for not having a man to swoon over: “I’m waiting for my prince to come.” She hadn’t had to use it in a while, though. She figured she’d finally gotten a reputation as something of an ice queen or an old maid in the making.

“What about Mr. Fancy?” she blurted, smearing jam on her toast.

“Who’s that?” Peggy asked, seeming genuinely confused. Angie’s heart sped up.

“You know, the guy I’ve seen around the automat. Nice suit, nice car, nice shoulders?” She sounded a little arch when she said it, even to herself, and she thought she might have overplayed her hand. The way Carol was giving her an exasperated look, maybe there was no ‘might’ about it. But it had been gnawing at her since she’d seen him pick Peggy up last time. 

Angie hadn’t managed to catch them talking since, but she’d recruited a few of the other girls there to keep an eye out. Peggy had definitely met up with him for coffee and pie since then, and she hadn’t managed to pry any gossip out of her coworkers. They thought she was being a busybody, and they hadn’t been willing to jeopardize a good tip by hanging too close. Angie was sure she was going to split at the seams if she didn’t find out what was going on between them soon. She only wanted to know if she had a chance.

Peggy burst out laughing, then quickly smothered it. Angie cocked her head, her heart suddenly in her throat. Whoever he was, either he wasn’t trying or he didn’t have a shot, and wasn’t that some great news?

“Oh, no. No.” Peggy coughed and cleared her throat, looking sheepish. “He’s just a colleague.” 

A married colleague she didn’t have a thing with, Angie thought. Maybe his wife was the jealous type? She’d known guys who went to stranger measures to keep peace on the homefront, especially if she was the one with the money.

Peggy straightened and put her napkin on the table, obviously getting ready to bow out of breakfast. “Good day, ladies. Early bird and all that.”

Miriam bustled in, and Angie cringed instinctively, her elation vanishing. Miriam looked too pleased with herself for the news to be good. She could be a real vulture when she wanted to, and she usually wanted to something fierce.

“Ah, Miss Carter, please sit.” Miriam raised her voice, addressing the hall at large, “This will only be a moment.”

Angie watched Peggy sit back down, seeming less curious and more wary. Her guard went up awful quick for someone who hadn’t done anything wrong, and Angie wondered what that was about. Then again, with all the rules Miriam laid down, everyone at the table had broken at least one in the past week. They all gave Miriam sidelong looks and tried to come across like they were paying attention without seeming like they were paying so much attention that they had to be guilty of something. Angie slathered her toast with jelly just to keep her hands busy.

“In 1925, the great Harry Houdini performed at this very building,” Miriam announced, and Angie already didn’t like where this was going. Miriam didn’t bring up that story unless she was planning on railing against ‘trespassers of the masculine variety’ in her ‘sacred feminine space.’ There were times when she thought Miriam had missed her calling as a nun or a headmistress. 

“Ugh, Houdini,” Angie said around a mouthful of toast. “That’s never good.”

Peggy’s eyes were back on Miriam, but her whole look was sharper this time. Angie watched the subtle change, fascinated in spite of Miriam’s theatrics. It was like seeing a cat take an interest in a squirrel that had gotten closer than was good for it.

“Women stood spellbound and watched as he escaped from handcuffs, straight jackets, and steamer trunks,” Miriam continued.

Molly’s eyes were fixed on her tea now, and Angie’s breakfast was turning sour in her stomach. She swallowed, her mouth going dry. She was pretty sure they all knew where this was going, and she sure hoped Jimmy had started putting together that nest egg like he’d promised.

“But the one trick he could not pull off was _ascending the stairs_.” Miriam’s voice flattened, and her face hardened. Angie could see the beginning of a dark flush creeping up Molly’s face, and Peggy was watching Miriam like a hawk. A hawk that didn’t necessarily like what it was seeing. “It’s a simple rule, ladies. No men above the first floor. Molly Bowen, please go to your room and pack your things.”

Peggy glanced from Molly back to Miriam, and Angie’s eyes followed hers. Molly looked like she was about to cry, and Angie gave the girl a sympathetic glance herself. It turned into a wide-eyed stare as Molly got to her feet and tried to reason with Miriam. Most girls didn’t have the spine to pull it off, and Angie hadn’t figured Molly for having what it took to try it in front of everyone. Good for her, Angie thought.

“Miss Fry, please,” Molly begged.

Miriam was implacable. “I hope you had a splendid evening, because it will be your last at the Griffith.” 

Angie’s fist clenched around her toast, and she quickly wiped the sticky mess off onto her napkin. There was no doubt that Miriam was enjoying dressing the poor thing down like that. She’d already decided on throwing her out. What was the point of humiliating her in front of the whole hall? It was meanness, pure and simple. Molly was choking back tears as she fled, and Peggy watched her go with what looked to Angie like amazed anger, like she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to slap somebody that hard. Peggy didn’t care much for bullies, then. Angie liked her all the better. 

“Let her be an example for the rest of you,” Miriam continued, warming to her speech. 

It was her victory lap, as far as Angie could figure, and she froze when Miriam walked to their table and rested her hand on the back of Angie’s chair. Of all the tenants Miriam had never had to worry about entertaining a gentleman caller, Angie thought, she had to be close to the top of the list. Then again, Miriam wouldn’t exactly see the reason as a selling point. She’d be out on her ear as a lurking threat to proper womanly virtue in a heartbeat if Miriam ever caught on. 

“This institution is not unlike Fort Knox or Alcatraz. Whether by force or trickery, this building is impenetrable.”

Angie almost didn’t notice the tiny smile Peggy was trying to tamp down, like she never heard a dare she didn’t want to take up. Angie gave her a sharp look. Miriam was standing right there. Was she crazy?

Angie’s shoulders didn’t straighten until Miriam had moved on, and there was Peggy still eyeing Miriam for all the world like she was planning a jailbreak. Angie let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Can you believe that?” she asked.

“I don’t, actually,” Peggy said. “No building is impenetrable.”

That hadn’t been what Angie meant, but Peggy got up and put her jacket on before she had a chance to explain. It was like Peggy was suddenly on a mission, and Angie watched her go with a feeling of trepidation. The way Peggy was walking and the look on Peggy’s face, she wouldn’t be surprised if a whole dock’s worth of sailors mysteriously turned up in Miriam’s office, bedroom, and kitchenette over the next few days.

Not that Angie wouldn’t pay a week’s tips to see the look on Miriam’s face when men started falling out of her closets and rolling out from under her bed, but Peggy had only just moved in. She didn’t want to lose her as a neighbor so soon.

*****

Angie checked her reflection and smoothed down her uniform. If she stopped to change clothes and scrub up, she knew she’d lose her nerve. She wasn’t exactly bushed, but it had been a long shift, and she was tired enough that it’d make for the perfect excuse to not even try. She’d been planning a small housewarming since Peggy had unpacked her things, and between one thing or another, it wound up being a great time to talk herself out of it instead of doing it.

She knocked on Peggy’s door and waited nervously. She could hear someone thumping around on the other side, and she wondered what Peggy was getting up to. It didn’t sound like she was moving furniture, and she’d personally helped Peggy sort out all but a few of her boxes the first couple days she’d been at the Griffith. The door burst open, and she found herself face-to-face with Peggy in her dressing gown. Angie blinked at her stupidly for a second, her mouth falling open, and then all her worst instincts kicked in.

“I’ve been on my feet so long, I’ve sprouted roots,” Angie announced, sweeping past her uninvited. She didn’t let on like she’d even noticed that Peggy had undressed for bed, because why on earth would she take the best opportunity to test the waters she’d gotten so far? Angie could kick herself for being such a chicken. There was something about Peggy that tied her tongue before she’d even opened her mouth. 

“Hello, Angie, sorry.” Peggy stared at her, and Angie didn’t blame her. “I was--uh--”

She plopped down on Peggy’s bed, and her eyelids fluttered at the thought of how well she’d like to get to know that mattress. Not that she’d ever get a chance if she couldn’t get her act together.

“An eight-hour shift, and I got a whole fifty cents in tips.” Angie spread her hands forlornly. “The war’s over. I thought we were spending money again. How was your day?”

“Well, fifty cents in tips would have been a considerable improvement,” Peggy said. 

She was shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, and Angie glanced around the apartment in an attempt not to gawk. Peggy looked like a femme fatale right out of one of those Cagney movies, and Angie couldn’t tell if it was making her braver or just dumber. A pair of scruffy old boots had been kicked under the dresser, and she felt better about her own housekeeping. Then her fingers curled into Peggy’s sheets of her own accord, and any idea of distracting herself evaporated.

“I got a bottle of schnapps and half a rhubarb pie,” Angie said in a rush. “Let’s see which one makes us sick first.”

“Oh, sounds lovely,” Peggy said weakly. “But I was about to go to bed.”

That was a pile of nonsense if Angie had ever seen one. Her hair was still perfect, and she had a full face of makeup on. She might have been planning something, but turning in wasn’t it. Angie wondered finally if maybe she should butt out. She might have one idea after seeing Peggy in that get-up, but Peggy wasn’t on the same track. Then again, after Miriam’s performance at breakfast, keeping an eye on Peggy for a few more minutes might not be such a bad idea.

“It’s eight o’clock, grandma,” Angie scolded. “Come on. Tell me about your crappy day.” She reclined slightly, making her posture as inviting as possible, and a thrill swept over her when she saw Peggy blush. “Maybe it’ll make me feel better.”

“I’m really tired. Maybe some other time.” 

Peggy gave her a watery smile that didn’t suit her in the least, and Angie told herself to snap out of it. Looking like that, Peggy was up to entertain a pretty specific type of guest, and she’d just made it crystal clear that Angie wasn’t it. It stung more than she wanted to admit.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you.” She got to her feet, ashamed of the tears pricking her eyes. The absolute last thing she wanted was for Peggy to catch on that she’d gotten weepy over something like this. Angie was a big girl, and Peggy had never done anything to get her hopes up.

“No, you didn’t disturb me,” Peggy said, taken aback. “I just--”

“No, it’s fine,” Angie snapped. She wanted out of Peggy’s sight before she came across as even more pathetic than she already had. She knew she was going to start sniffling in a few seconds. She stalked past Peggy and out the door. “I know a brush-off when I see it.”

“Angie!” Peggy called, following her a few steps.

They both stopped short when they saw Miriam and a tall blonde walking down the hall toward them. Angie surreptitiously rubbed at her cheek, hoping they were too surprised to ask what was wrong. And what was Miriam even doing showing a new girl around at this time of night?

“Oh!” Miriam said, looking startled. “Miss Carter, Miss Martinelli. May I introduce you to our new resident, Miss Dorothy Underwood?”

Angie put two and two together and tried not to glare. Molly’s apartment probably still smelled of her perfume and powder, and Miriam was already moving a new girl into it. She and Peggy were only in the way of Miriam installing Molly’s replacement.

“Call me Dottie.” She shoved one surprisingly-strong corn-fed hand at Angie, who shook it automatically. “Nice to meet you. This place is pretty swell, huh? Seems like one big happy family.”

“That wears off,” Angie assured her, feeling like a jerk even as she said it. It wasn’t Dottie’s fault she’d caught them at a bad time and happened to be benefiting from a rotten situation.

“No,” Peggy protested. Her smile was brittle, though, and Angie thought she looked just this side of miserable. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I love your accent!” Dottie cooed. “England, right? I’ve never met anybody from there.”

Angie sized her up at that. Something seemed a little off about the way she’d said it. A shade too quick, a bit too bright. For a second, Dottie reminded her of the only girl she’d ever met who’d really scared her--a mobster’s mistress whose ingenue routine had let him pretend he was the brains behind the operation--and then it was gone. Angie shook herself. She was being silly. She was upset about Peggy, that was all.

“Miss Underwood hails from Iowa and is pursuing a ballet career,” Miriam plunged ahead, oblivious to their discomfort. “Typically, I find dancers too carefree and irresponsible, though I have always appreciated the discipline of ballet.”

Angie thought about her own time on the stage and counted to ten. There was only so much she could put up with out of life in five minutes, and she’d about had her limit. It was like finding out Peggy wasn’t interested wasn’t enough; Miriam had to come along and rub it in.

“Nice to meet you, Dot.” Angie brushed past her.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dottie offered at her retreating back.

“No harm, wasn’t much more to say,” Angie said over her shoulder.

She could hear Peggy’s assurance that Dottie would be right at home at the Griffith as she slammed her door, followed by the decisive sound of Peggy’s own door closing. Angie angrily wiped away the two tears that rolled down her cheeks and tried to talk herself out of being upset. It had never worked, but that had never stopped Angie from trying. She’d known there were good odds Peggy wasn’t interested, and she’d gone and gotten all knotted up over her anyway. She only had herself to blame, and she wasn’t a big fan of self-reproach, so maybe she could skip it this once.

Angie dried her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She’d had a long, hard day, and she was hungry and tired, and things would look better in the morning. She eyed the pie and the schnapps. The booze would keep, but the rhubarb wouldn’t. As much as she loved the L&L’s pies, it was too much for one person. She blew her nose and scrubbed her eyes. She’d get cleaned up, give herself half an hour to calm down, and knock on Dottie’s door. She’d feel terrible later if she didn’t apologize for biting her head off like that, and it wasn’t like she was in a big hurry to listen to someone else crying on the hall phone about how lonely she was. 

*****

Angie saw Peggy as soon as she walked through the door, her smart red-check coat almost glowing in the dim light. It had been a dull shift without even the hope of seeing her to brighten it.

“The usual?” Angie asked. She hadn’t caught more than a glimpse of Peggy since she’d dashed out of her apartment almost in tears for no obvious reason, and she hadn’t expected to for at least another day or so. She wasn’t sure how warm a reception she’d get if she tried to play it off like everything was back to normal.

“Yes, please.” Peggy sat down diffidently, almost like she needed permission. She wasn’t being stand-offish, which Angie thought was a good sign. Maybe she could fix this after all. Peggy didn’t seem mad, just a little confused, like she was the one who’d messed up.

“Anything else?” Angie asked hopefully. She knew better than to push her luck after last night, though.

“Uh…” Peggy looked down, and Angie wasn’t too proud to follow her eyes down to the plunging neckline of her blouse. This was how she’d gotten herself into this mess, and she knew well enough she wasn’t better than that. “I thought I might tell you about my day. If you have a moment.”

“Yeah, that would be a nice change.” Angie smiled shyly and gestured at the almost-empty diner. “I got plenty of time on my hands.” She crossed her arms and leaned forward. “All ears.”

“It’s just that one of my coworkers died today,” Peggy said quietly.

“Geez, Peg, that’s too bad,” Angie told her. That explained why she looked so raw, then. “Right there on the job?”

“Yes, it was sudden.” Peggy shook her head, and Angie thought she was holding it together pretty well, all things considered. She’d be a bawling wreck if it was her.

“I know how you feel--blindsided. Like when my cousin Ralphie got hit by a bus. Granted, he did just knock off a newsstand, but still. Big shock.” Her aunt had had the priest leave the part about the newsstand out of the eulogy and stuck with it being unexpected.

Peggy was holding back tears, and Angie melted at the thought of her soldier girl crying in front of her. She was glad she’d gotten out of the apartment before the waterworks had started. It was one thing to cry because somebody was dead, and if this was what it took to make Peggy tear up, what would she have thought if Angie had started up for no apparent reason?

“I don’t know why it’s hit me so hard,” Peggy sighed. “We weren’t close. He was a brute, a cheat. He was disrespectful and rude. But he was...good at his job.”

“I’m really sorry, honey.” Angie took her hand across the counter. “What can I do?”

“Miss, can I get a refill?” a man called.

Angie stifled a sigh. Two other customers in the whole diner, and one of them had the world’s worst timing.

“Do you still have that schnapps?” Peggy asked, blotting her eyes.

“Miss?” He gestured imperiously at his coffee cup.

“Let me get this jerk his refill,” Angie said, “and I’ll clock out.”

Peggy glanced back at him, then meaningfully at Angie. “I think that jerk quite fancies you.”

Angie blushed furiously, caught flat by the appreciation in Peggy’s eyes. “Shut up, English. You talk too much.”

She got to watch Peggy finally crack a smile when she walked past with the coffee.

Clocking out didn’t take long, and Peggy slipped her arm through Angie’s as they made their way home. It felt good, walking right in step with Peggy like that. It was almost like she was Peggy’s girl, and she was glad she hadn’t ruined anything by pitching a scene. Even if it had never crossed Peggy’s mind to like a woman, she was a good friend. Angie was pleased that she’d put the schnapps away before she’d invited Dottie over, too. She’d done it because she got soppy and morose when she drank while she was already down, and it wasn’t good manners to apologize to a girl for being a pill and then turn right around and do it again before the night was even over. It hadn’t occurred to her at the time that Peggy might be up for a rain-check.

It felt like no time at all before Angie had them tucked away safe in her apartment and was filling a pair of glasses. She might was well have floated home, she thought. Peggy looked like she’d bounced back pretty well, too, and Angie beamed at her.

“I’m sorry about busting in on you like that the other day,” she said, sliding a glass across her pint-sized card table.

“No, please, don’t be,” Peggy laughed. She drank deep and nodded appreciatively. “I’m the one who should apologize, Angie. Things have been strange lately, and I wasn’t expecting company. I’m afraid I handled the whole thing badly. I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It wasn’t you so much,” Angie lied. She sipped her schnapps, more to soothe her nerves than anything else. “I’d had a bad day, and I was looking for something to cheer me up. Probably right about what you were worried about when you didn’t want to move in here.”

“It really wasn’t,” Peggy said softly, and her cheeks colored.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” Angie teased.

Peggy leaned forward and kissed her then, and Angie froze in shock. Had she finally hit the point where she wanted it so bad that she was imagining things? There’d been times she could’ve sworn she’d heard the casting director call her name only to get a sharp dose of reality when she’d gotten in front of them. But Peggy was blushing and stammering and apologizing.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have--”

Angie caught her face between her hands and kissed her back, sweet and slow and just like she’d been wanting to for weeks. 

“Sure you should’ve,” she said softly.

“Oh!” Peggy breathed when they finally broke apart, and Angie was amazed at how dark her eyes had gotten.

A quick knock on the door made them both jump.

“Hey, Angie, you in there? Me and Lorraine are gonna show Dottie the boardwalk! You wanna come?” Helen called through the door. 

Angie groaned, and Peggy chewed her lip, trying not to laugh. Angie opened the door far enough to talk and found the three of them all piled on her mat like a bunch of misplaced tourists.

“Nah, I’m gonna stay in tonight,” Angie said. “Long day. But you guys have fun. You’ll love it, Dottie.”

“If you’re sure,” Helen said.

She could hear them trooping down the hall as she shut the door and flicked the lock, and she turned back to find Peggy watching her appreciatively. Of all the times she’d imagined this, she’d never once thought she’d be in her uniform when she caught Peggy eyeing her up.

“You want to turn on the radio and get a girl a refill?” Angie asked, licking her lips.

“Anything you like,” Peggy promised, smiling back.


End file.
